Star vs the Forces of Fever
by tinytoottoot
Summary: When Star stays at home and dodges a school day, she did not expect it to be because she contracted an Earth illness called fever. So Marco stays at home with her under Mrs. Diaz request and takes care of her as they both realize some things about themselves and their relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**From an idea, I got to form this little piece of fluff from up my sleeve. SVTFOE is such a _really_ cool show and although it's been going for some time, I made time to watch all of the episodes and got inspiration from them. This is the first part of a two-part fluff and I really hope I did good with this. The characters were really tricky but that was the part that had me enjoying writing this, so I hope you enjoy it too! o u o**

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"Marco!"

Marco sat bolt upright in bed, causing the wooden structure to shake a little at his sudden move. Stuttering a confused 'what' in his still developing male voice, he blinked his eyes open. Instantly, he came eye to eye with a very frantic looking princess from another dimension, her nose nearly touching the tip of his own, and her lips twisted in anxiety and her characteristic sheepish smile.

"Gaah, Star!" He yelped in surprise, scrambling to the other side of the bed and falling onto the floorboards with a loud thud, his groans of pain filling the room. She had barged in his room at an early hour, he was still wearing sleep attire, meaning, he was in a plain white tee, donning light purple boxers with white unicorns and a very, very obvious tent.

In a muffled voice, he asked her, "What's wrong, Star?"

"Weell," she said, the last syllable of the word dragging as she tipped her head to the side with the exaggeration she was born with, the edges of her long golden hair touching the wooden floor.

"I think I got some sort of Earth disease," she explained, tapping her chin and humming thoughtfully. Before bringing her wand in close proximity to her face. Her eyes blinked as she poked the wand and released an interested musing hum.

"Oooh, maybe I can zap it away? Returnuss normale—"

"Hold on, Star, do you remember the time you tried to fix up my broken arm?" He asked, standing onto his feet and holding a hand out to lower her wand away from her face. Marco's erection had subsided due to unceremoniously falling on the floor and he felt confident standing before her again. Star looked lost in thought momentarily and then declared with glee, "Ooooh, that. Yeah, I remember."

"You don't want to do that to yourself. Trust me," he assured her, his mind drifting to slimy plum tentacles and shivered. She hummed thoughtfully out loud, feeling her neck under her palms. Her skin had felt hot all morning but she thought it was just the lingering strokes Mewberty. After all, Mewberty lived up to its flippantly weird reputation, so how is this any different? Until she faced the mirror, found no hearts in every shade of purple strewn over her body, and began coughing loudly.

"But I don't have to fix my arm, Marco," she reasoned. Marco replied blandly as they made their way downstairs for breakfast, "I mean, you shouldn't use your magic on yourself, in case you get it wrong and go over it a hundred tries again just so you can make it work. That saves you two days to dedicate to the art of sleeping."

"But that's boring, Marco!" She whined, stretching her arms out towards the floor and feigning another exaggerated yawn. Marco walked past her to the bathroom and Star followed suit behind him. The pair had been through a lot together. With their crazy every day routine of monster-fighting, the two had undergone a baptism of fire of sorts that made them work better together in many ways and provided them better ease with things. Still, Marco knew getting too comfortable meant other things he knew Star wouldn't want to deal with. At least, not yet, he hoped in his silly little mind.

"Besides, we got school," she said matter-of-factly, as Marco went over to the toilet. Star waited on the other side of the door, consistently feeling her heated skin.

"You can just skip today."

There was a loud thud on the door that followed, which he can assume was made by the butt of her wand hitting the surface, "You can DO that?"

"Yeah, just tell them you're sick," he said as soon as he stepped out, heading over to his pristine side of the sink to wash his hands. Star burst into a cough then, her hand flying to her throat and her hair flinging forward. Marco jumped back and moved away from the impending swat of hair. The loud cough echoed across the room and soon after, silence reigned the space.

"What kind of Earth disease do you have?" He asked worriedly, inspecting her carefully before she started coughing again. She had never coughed so hard like this before. Sure she got sick before, but those were all Mewman of origin, so she knew what they were and where she got them. Marco had more than once cringed at them and became a little thankful that she got a human fever instead, that way, he would know it better.

When she was finally able to move her head back, her eyes finally showed signs of fatigue. She didn't get enough sleep last night since she was trying to figure out what kind of Earth disease she had, if the new batch of otherworldly creatures marching about in the hallway was any indication. She scratched her throat vigorously, groaning. Marco took both of her hands in one of his in a swipe and pressed the back of his palm against her forehead just below her purple eye mask. She was burning.

"Will my intestines fry?!" She asked with a squeal obviously not filled with delight, turning her wand with both hands towards her stomach when Marco let them go.

"No, Star, stop that," he shouted, pushing her hands down, "I think you've got fever."

Star gasped again, touching her heated skin, "Fever! What is it?"

She looked every bit as sick as anyone does but her extravagantly cheerful personality was still shining through. Marco took a mental note to check on her even if she acted like her normal self.

"It's when your body heats up unnecessarily, might be caused by—oh, no," his voice trailed off, realization dawning him. Star felt herself small against Marco's squinting eyes.

"I told you to get out of that rain, Star," he scolded, crossing his arms. Star offered a sheepish smile, holding her wand in both hands and tilting her head innocently. One of her legs would lift behind her and she would bat her lashes, it looked almost comical. Marco had always thought she looked kind of cute like this, nervous. Her sheepish smile would stretch out and bunch up at her already bubbly cheeks, and the hearts on her face would appear a little larger.

"I just went out for a little, Marcooo," she replied, fumbling with her wand. Her pale skin already looked paler and her forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"Really?" He tested, raising an eyebrow at her. She grit her teeth a little too much and fumbled her wand faster. Eventually, she caved, groaning as she went.

"You should've been there! It felt AWESOME!"

"Right, no school for you today," he deadpanned, standing behind her and putting his hands onto her shoulders. He was not ready for the blaze of heat on her skin and the softness that met his fingertips. Star's porcelain skin was soft but firm, lithe with just the right amount of muscle, undoubtedly from all the monster fights in their backyard on a daily basis. He shook his head and struggled not to rub the expanse of her skin visible through the straps of her night gown. Internally, he would groan whenever he got urges like these. It was hard enough to live with a princess from another dimension, but it was harder to live with her under the same roof at the age of fourteen.

"Yey! No school!" She cheered, oblivious to Marco's teenaged hormonal male reaction. He walked her back to her room, asked her to change into more comfortable clothing (preferably something that will keep her warm) and told her his mom would make the sick call for her. She nodded and soon after, hopped out of the room in a large shirt she had printed especially for Marco: 'It's not criminal to be an individual'. His lips formed an easy smile as memories of their Saint O's break in flooded back inside his head. They went downstairs together and Star bounded down cheerfully despite the fever in her system, greeted by the laser puppies awaiting some petting.

"Not now, sweeties. I have fever!" She boasted and wriggled her fingers at the word 'fever' as though it were something magical, "AND I don't have school!"

"Not yet, you don't, we've got to call in first. Mom," he called out at the bottom of the stairs to his mother in the kitchen, "Star's got fever."

A few shuffles and the sound of kitchen utensils against each other later, Angie came out of the kitchen in a scruffy-looking canvas apron. White powder streaked her cheeks irregularly, as the sweet scent of sugar and fresh fruits wafted out of the kitchen along with her. Star sniffed the air with gusto.

"Aw, dear, Marco can take care of you," she suggested firmly, with arms akimbo.

"That's right, while I just head on to sch—what?"

"YEY! Let's both have fever!"

"Mom!"

Angie gave a giggle as her massive hair began to shake. She rubbed her palms against each other and went over to Marco to whisper to him, "Star needs you, dear. Can you really go to school knowing she'll be here by herself facing that sickness?"

Marco seemed panicked for a minute, stammering through jumbled words while Star just watched the pair eagerly, not being able to hear what Mrs. Diaz had said to Marco. When his eyes fell on Star, she was sitting on the couch, hugging her striped pastel blue and pink legs onto her chest and her eye mask still over her parted bangs. Her eyes were as wide and clueless as a newborn Earth baby and Marco's sight carried themselves to the red streaks her fingers made earlier when she scratched her throat and wondered if he really could just leave her alone to deal with this herself. It was like she was begging for him to stay without even trying. And his mother vouched openly for her.

"But that's why _you're_ here, Mom," he replied, with arms flailing.

"Oh no, your father and I'll be leaving early today. We have a celebration over at your Aunt Suzie's and her newly opened flower shop," she spoke excitedly, suddenly flinging her apron from her body, laying it onto a nearby wooden chair, and heading over to the bottom of the stairs to call for her husband.

"Besides, I know you can take care of Star just fine, Marco. She trusts you enough to let you."

Star was rocking back and forth on the couch and a few laser puppies were huddling on one side of her, each one vying for her attention.

"Breakfast is on the table, flapjacks in maple syrup topped with blueberries and strawberries. Star likes the colors," she winked before barking out sharply, "Rafael!"

"Coming, honey!"

"Star, could you hand me the phone over there, please?" Angie pointed to the black device near the couch. Star placed the device in her open palm but not before looking at it like it was made out of gold. Marco sat down beside her away from the eager pups, as Angie dialed the school line. Star scooted closer to him while still hugging her knees.

"So what now? How do we fight it?"

"Fight what?"

"The fever, how do we fight it?" She asked, peeking at him from her knees. She was so slim that her legs tucked perfectly against her body. Suddenly, he wished she didn't wear such a large shirt and dumbly enough, wished she ditched the stockings too. He had wanted to see her milky legs again but never dared say it. It had always sounded perverted in his mind and he knew that no matter how he phrased it, the creep-factor was still there.

"You get some rest and take some medicine," he explained, and averted his eyes to watch Angie finish the last few seconds of the sick call. Star uttered an incoherent jumble of words behind him in confusion.

"What's a medicine?"

"You take it to make you feel better."

Angie was walking towards them now, Rafael trailing behind her in a chestnut colored polo shirt with its top two buttons loose and his abundant chest hair visible. There was a child-like smile on his face and he was vibrating visibly with enjoyment. Marco's eyes squinted in suspicion.

"How long will you guys be gone?"

Angie looked at his son with an unreadable expression. Her eyes and lips were set in a knowing smile only moms can give, apparently, (lately, she'd been giving him these looks) as she enunciated, "We'll be gone the whole day," and when Marco's eyes flew open in surprise, followed it up cheerfully with, "So take all the time that you need to get well, Star! Bye bye now!"

"Bye!" Rafael called out obliviously, halfway through the door.

"Bye," Marco said in a careful tone, gently closing the door before hearing Star cough violently once more.

"Ugh, I feel like I'm coughing up my innards!" She groused, letting herself fall over the edge of the couch and landed face first onto the carpet. She groaned loudly into the rough surface and scratched at it with her fingers. Marco jogged to her side and sat on the couch, poking the back of her head.

"Get up, Star, we gotta get you some breakfast so you can take your medicine," Marco said carefully, placing his hand onto her head now and absently stroking her golden hair. She stiffened as he touched her, and as much as Marco wanted to stop, he couldn't. He just felt the urge and let it go for once, she can slap his arm later or stop talking to him for a week, he would deal with it later. Right now, it just felt right. In the gravid silence of the house, save for the little yelps of the litter of dangerous puppies, Star felt strangely at peace for the first time since last night. His fingers in her hair felt strange and new, his strokes were even, sure, and his fingertips occasionally rubbed at her scalp almost affectionately. She stayed in that position as he touched her and felt him settling on the spot beside her head.

"Usually," he began, smiling to himself away from Star's sight, "when you get fever, your body feels hot and tired and vulnerable. You can be irritable too, or extremely sensitive."

At the mention of the final word, Marco dug his fingertips agilely past her thick hair and strategically brushed his fingers against the budding pair of purple, translucent wings on her back, through her shirt. Star moaned into the carpet involuntarily and Marco laughed lightly.

"Sensitive," he repeated in a whisper. Star punched his side swiftly.

"Shut it, Diaz," she warned, huffing and flipping herself over. Her bangs were flat on her forehead now, having stuck to the sweat that formed there. The golden tendrils squiggled in blond lines. Her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed, and the too large shirt slid a few inches down her equally sweaty shoulder, revealing the expanse of skin Marco had felt like touching just minutes ago.

"And irritable," he continued with an obnoxious smile, putting a hand on his knee and standing back up. He offered a hand to Star who took it but not without a sprouting feeling of embarrassment.

"Let's go gobble up some jacks."

When they reached the kitchen, Star skipped merrily to the refrigerator, forgetting her embarrassment. She fished out a bottle of maple syrup and cream. Marco followed behind her to the dining table with eating utensils and handed Star hers. Star smothered her flap-stack with an overly generous helping of maple syrup, bathing the blueberry and strawberry topping in a sticky light brown goop. Next, she crowned the confection with a clumsy application of cream. Marco watched the whole process at the corner of his eyes and smiled to himself, eating away at his flap-stack. It was what she had called it when she first tried it. Star woke up that day to an enthused Diaz family awaiting her descent down the stairs, and since it was so sudden, had only prepared a medium-sized stack of flapjacks with a lone candle stuck at the top, square center. She had yelped then, and directed her wand at the confection when she saw the odd deep yellowish goop of the rich maple syrup, saying that Mewni had a monster with the same appearance as the syrup. Marco had laughed nervously, but his parents just looked at each other and greeted once more, "Happy first day on Earth, Star!"

Star called it flap-stack by mistake, Marco tried to correct it but Star waved it off in her own cheerful way. The flap-stack found its way to the table next as the Diaz family sliced it up like a cake. And when it was Star's turn to be served, (of course, Marco had to teach her not to stroke the fork through her hair first, or use it as a backscratcher) she dug into the bread with wonder and put it inside her mouth in excitement. The dining room was filled with a series of satisfied hums afterwards, with Star moaning delightfully at each bite. Since then, Marco called it flap-stack in honor of that first day she came into his life.

"Let's go, Marco!" Star shouted abruptly, grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the kitchen, away from his half eaten flap-stack.

"Wait, wait! Where are we going?"

"Psh, come on! Mrs. Diaz called in sick for the both of us—such a sweet lady—let's go hang out with Ponyhead!" She said in rapid fire succession, cutting a rift in reality through her dimensional scissors, and moving her hips.

"No, Star, you have to stay here. You're sick," he replied calmly, taking the dimensional scissors and closing up the rift. He was so close to her and the heat of her body was worrying and strangely, magnetic. Star had always smelt like sweat and strawberries, being a person who moved a lot all the time, and the scent had always intrigued him. Carefully, Marco placed both hands on Star's arms and looked her in the eye. She smelt twice as sweaty today due to the effects of the fever but for some reason, it made him feel even more attracted to her. Gently, Marco rubbed circles on her sweaty arms and Star felt her face heat up. Her brows met in the middle and her blue eyes searched his in a slight haze. Star slid her arms from his grasp and looked tentatively at him.

"Marco, stop being weird," she muttered, feeling edgy. She sat on the couch, hugging her legs again. Realizing what she had just said, Marco choked on a laugh and scratched the back of his head on impulse, "Sorry, I freaked you out."

"Oh, no! It's fine!" She answered quickly, driven by the urge to bear down another round of embarrassment.

There was another awkward silence and it was Marco who broke it with a drawn out sigh, and a fond and apologetic smile, "Well, I gotta start taking care of you now."

He made his way back to the kitchen and took an aspirin from the medicine cabinet above the fridge. There were slight shuffles from the living room. And then, in a burst of pink glitter, Marco heard something massive slam hard against the living room wall, just inches beside the TV. He ran to the living room with a glass of water and an aspirin.

"Star, what's wrong?!" He shrieked, staring at the smashed wall with a terrified look on his face.

"I just wanted to push that table a liiiittle bit and then the next thing I knew.." she trailed off, animating her story with smooth and yet also extremely confusing hand movements. Marco turned to inspect the dent, actually, that was an understatement of the incident. The dent, in fact, was a large fracture on the wall in the size of the square table. The few pieces of cements scattered near the television and got into the nearby plant pot and littered the floor. Marco sighed in resignation and chose to ignore what had just happened, handing Star the glass of water and the foil packet of aspirin.

"Here, just take some aspirin."

Star inspected the packet curiously, rubbing her chin and fishing out a toy mustache. She put it just above her philtrum, "What's an askerin?"

Marco looked at her simply and waved the packet in front of her meticulous gaze. The blue ball of her eyes watched the movement of the pill packet until Marco held his hand still in mid-air.

"Aspirin," he corrected, as Star snatched the packet from Marco's fingertips and bit it harshly, making the pill crush under the pressure of her teeth, "It's to help you get well faster."

"Why do I have to?" She asked again, while Marco took the tattered packet expressionlessly and placed a new one in her palm. She looked at it again as if to interrogate the piece of plastic. Marco sighed.

"Do you want your fever to get worse?"

"No!"

"Do you want the monsters to come and think you're a weak and powerless princess?"

"Noooo!" She groaned, gripping her golden locks in her sweaty palms and pulling downwards. The mustache and the pill fell on the floor, crushed under Star's stomping foot. She made a face. Marco smirked playfully at her, took yet another pill, and dropped it in her palm.

"Then take this, and fulfill your destiny, oh great Princess," he said grandiosely, holding the back of her palms and lifting it closer to her frowning mouth.

"Hmp," she took the packet closer and looked up at Marco, not knowing how to open it. Marco made a move with his fingers. He extended a hand, palm up, took one of the destroyed pill packets, punctured the plastic and peeled it off as it gave. Star looked at the crushed pill in his hand and looked up at him again.

"That's the pill, Star. Right there."

She looked down at the pill one more time and then extended a curious touch towards it. Star poked it gently and found that it was hard although the few pieces of it had littered the bottom of the pill-shaped plastic case. She kept poking the pill until she felt her stomach churn again with thoughts about human medicine and how ridiculous she thought it was.

"I have to take that? Inside my body?" She cried, horrified, her arms flying involuntarily against her warm, flat chest. Her jaw dropped open as Marco nodded.

"Yep, now come on,"

"But Marco! I don't want to!" She protested, spinning sharply on her heel headed for the direction of the staircase. Marco stayed in his spot and replied firmly, without any emotion, "You have to, Star."

When she refused to turn around, Marco took light steps up the stairs behind her and gripped her shoulders again. He directed her back to the kitchen, with her heels digging on the floor, "I don't want ask-her-in!"

She darted quickly the other way, gripping hard on the staircase, as the rest of her body clung to it like a koala. Marco would tell her she looked cute if she hadn't been so stubborn. He marched towards her and circled his lower arms around her waist, unlatching her fingers from the wrought iron one by one. The more Marco's arms tightened around Star's mid-section, the stronger she clung to the staircase, shouting, "Mewmans shall live forever! Thou shalt not take askerin!"

"Aspirin," Marco deadpanned again, pressing his chest flush against her back and wrapping his long, lanky arms tighter so that it wrapped around her completely, his head pressed directly beside hers and her ears a few inches from his lips. Star froze then, heat furiously rising to her neck and cheeks. Wow, she thought, maybe I really should take some askerin. Marco kept pulling her from her tight wrap around the iron and realized what he had been doing when his upper arm brushed slightly against her clothed chest. Instantly, he felt as heated as Star did, with the sensation licking around his neck and shoulders and elsewhere. With all the swiftness of a cat, he slid his arms off Star's midsection, horrified, and buried his hands in his pocket. Beet red with shame at his actions, he decided to just ask her politely.

"Will you please just take it? I promise it'll make you feel better in no time. Please?"

"I don't know how to.."

"I'll help you take it," he assured her. Slowly, she let go of the staircase and walked over to him. Her face was twisted in agitation and he knew it was from her embarrassment. Star had always talked unnecessarily whenever she felt a little too much of a teenager, claiming it was better to talk than let your adolescent feelings get to you. But now it was getting to her and Marco can't deny that it was getting to him, too.

"You promise?" She asked carefully, narrowing her eyes again. Marco smiled gently at her. If she was gonna do this, he knew he was going to have to do something on his part to help her. He stood there patiently as Star tiptoed to him like he was a secret she was afraid to discover. Finally, with constant cajoling, she followed him back to the living room and sat down on the couch.

"Here," he handed it to her.

"Okaay," she took the pill in her palm once more, staring at it with a tinge of fearful amusement.

"So you take it, put it on your tongue—" Marco began.

"You have aspirin too?" She interrupted, blinking with wide eyes at the red circular pill in his palm.

"It's an M&M," he answered, lifting his thumb and forefinger up to his lips. He opened his mouth carefully, waiting for Star to do the same. When she just looked at him with a curious glare, he sighed and continued, "So on your tongue—"

"Which side do I put on first?"

Marco blinked, "Any side?"

"What about this side?" She put the pill on one slim side and pressed it in the middle of her tongue so it stood up like a coin. She looked eager to please, with brows wiggling playfully. Whereas Marco was expressionless. Tasting the bitterness of the pill, she spat it out back in her palm.

"Yes, that works too. And then, you close your mouth," he continued, snapping his mouth shut in demonstration. Star tentatively looked at the pill and stared at it constantly like it was some sort of terrifying historical artifact. The bitter taste lingered in her tongue and she made a face.

"Why?" She cried, her voice high-pitched.

"Because then you'd need to drink water to wash it down," he grabbed a glass of water on the floor beside the carpet and lifted it up for her to see. Star looked between the glass of water and Marco. Glass of water, Marco. Glass of water, Marco.

"Why do I have to do that?" She looked desperately between the pill and the glass of water, feeling the slight unease in her system cloud her rationality. In Mewni, all they did to cure any disease was isolate them in a faraway town and bury them underground with only their heads poking through the soil. Star had a feeling Marco wouldn't want to hear all about it.

"Star, just do it," he begged, his eyes obviously increasing with worry. She would know someday why he always seemed to worry about her. But now was not the time. He sat patiently, waiting for her to take the pill in her mouth. She did, eventually, pressing the pill against her tongue in the same manner as she did earlier. Next, Star closed her mouth, but opened it again to ask, "What now?"

"You drink water to wash it down." Marco handed her the glass of water and she took it with careful hands.

Star held her throat and blinked at the glass, "Down my neeeck?"

"Yes, down your neck," he nodded, watching as Star took the glass closer to her lips. She drew a long breath through her nose and tilted the glass to taste the liquid. After a beat, Star's eye began darting between Marco and the carpet. She gulped aloud but kept her mouth closed, scratching a finger on the carpet in silence

"Let's see. Open your mouth," Marco said carefully, leaning closer to her. Star hesitated, and tapped an uneasy finger against the carpet. Slowly, Star opened her mouth, the pill was still there.

Marco sighed, refilling the glass, "Oookay. Try again."

Star tried again, and Marco knew she earnestly did. He knew Star did everything with renewed tenacity each day, despite not knowing everything about Earth. She would always put herself out there and battle things head on. She tried thrice, but the pill was still on her tongue.

"Come on, Star! It's just a pill, you can do this. This is nothing compared to battles with Ludo," Marco assured.

"But it tastes so _baaaad_ ," she groaned, lolling her tongue out to reveal the melted piece of pill.

"Here," he handed her another glass, opened his palm with a tissue and asked her to spit out the slightly melted pill. He gave her another one. After one more failed attempt and a few sobs into the bean bag monster who just happened to pass by, Star was finally able to take it in. She felt a little uneasy once she did take it, the feel of the pill plunging down her throat had lingered, making it hard for her to talk afterwards. Marco understood this and calmly reassured her to stay in the living room while he fished out a few CDs for them to watch. She was more than happy to oblige, but not before asking him in exaggerated sign language to bring back a blanket from her room since she had been feeling cold all day, for some reason. Marco nodded once and headed straight for the stairs. Star tugged his shirt again, though, before he was able to leave, and said in rapid fire succession, "Make me some nachos."

"Anything else?" Marco asked, crossing his arms with a lazy smile. Star tapped her chin again in thought and blinked up at him.

"Hehe.. Nothing else. Go on, now, go!" She shooed him away and huddled deeper on the couch, hugging her legs closer to her body again. She had felt the heat prickle through her body ever since he'd touched her at the hallway, with his rough hands pressed against her sweaty shoulders. Gently, she lifted her right sleeve and found a tiny purple heart staring right back at her.


	2. Chapter 2

When Marco came back, one of his long arms were wrapped around a medium-sized stack of movies ranging from action to horror. It was not intended to freak her out or make her jump in the couch to hug him because he already knew Star wasn't that kind of girl. Knowing her, she would gasp and her blue eyes will be filled with wonder even though the characters start gutting each other. And being a teenager also meant that you're more afraid of yourself than you are of anything. The horror movies was going to be ironic, because it'll be like belittling the horror they felt about themselves and the myriad of confusing teenaged emotions they had. At the foot of the stairs, he peered into the living room to see Star sitting with her legs still tucked against her chest. The sweat on her forehead had slowly dried and the sour look on her face when she took the pill had melted into an enthusiastic grin, if not, slightly a little unnerved for some reason. He didn't even know those two emotions could mix in one facial expression but trust Star to make something out of nothing.

He had moved the table back on its feet and shook the cement powder on top. Placing it back again in the middle of the living room carpet, it stood up relatively unscathed, with only light indentations in the wooden frame. He put down the movie stack onto the surface and began scanning his picks.

"So.. Mackie Hand or.. Some horror. What are you up for, Star?" He asked her, without looking. His eyes and hands were preoccupied with the task of picking out a film to watch but Star remained silent. Thinking she was just pondering her options, he went on.

"We could play one action and one horror and alternate between each other until our eyes tire from the marathon or until we clean up the fridge," he chuckled, rearranging another stack of CDs on the other side of the table in alternating fashion. Marco looked up and jumped back at what he saw.

"So maybe Mewberty and human fever go well together in the worse way, don't you think?" She said sheepishly, scratching at her shoulders. She had lowered down a sleeve to show him her porcelain skin peppered with purple hearts. He hadn't noticed it earlier while he was bounding the stairs—donning jeans—in excitement but now that he did, his mind raced with thoughts of deep plum skin and glowing eyes and the picture had him gulping.

"You're not going to turn purple and wreak havoc again, are you?"

"No, no! See, the indicators are the eyes. See," she blinked her left eye wide open, "not glowing. It's totally fine!"

He couldn't help it. He walked across the living room with three long strides so that he was beside her as he sat down the sofa. But when his hands were about to reach her forehead to check on her temperature again, the realization hit him like a truck.

"T-this is because I touched you, isn't it?"

Star shrugged her shoulders once. Twice. Thrice, followed by a mumbled triptych of, "Kinda? Sorta? Yes?"

The blush that crept on Marco's face heated his body like wildfire. Star panicked when she saw the change in his face and waved her hands frantically in front of him.

"Don't worry, Marco! This is normal! Normal, see?" She took his hand again and pressed his forefinger against her lower arm. Where the tip of his finger met her warm skin, a tiny heart popped out and soon after, a bunch of its other friends joined the party.

"Normal," she said again, reaching out to rub the top of his head. His worry stayed, but Star was getting flustered at trying to keep him from freaking out. Where her hand touched his head, more purple hearts resurfaced. Star gurgled out a dissatisfied groan and slammed her face back on the couch seat, inches away from his thigh.

"I hate Mewberty! It makes everything awkward and sweaty! Rrgh!"

Suddenly, Marco felt like laughing in spite of the situation. It was nice to know his sentiments weren't his alone. He still worried, though, if the next time he touched her, the purpled hearts would fan out and cover her whole body and light her up like a crystal from the inside. So he decided to scoot as decently away from her as possible. Star struggled not to show how hurt that physical distancing made her feel, but Marco knew her well enough to see it in her face no matter how hard she tried to hide it. After a beat, he inched a little closer, careful not to brush her skin.

"I just.. Don't want you to go all weird like that. For your sake. You're sick, Star, and being hit by the Mewberty truck while you are makes you twice as vulnerable," he said, explaining it to her as gently as he could. He wanted to touch her so bad, wanted to hug her and show her physically that he was sorry for what he did. But he knew doing that would make stuff worse, and so his decision had been to just wait patiently for her reaction.

Star sat up seconds later and dropped her legs onto the carpet. Her face went from a frustrated attempt to hide pain, to a mild shift in the happy zone, her lips quivering just the slightest when she tried to smile again. To no avail. She just sighed and contented herself with burying her face on Marco's chest. Marco gasped in surprise and heard a chorus of purple hearts popping up on her skin. He stopped breathing, and with herculean effort, tried so hard not to touch her arms.

"Marco," she whimpered out his name, her hands finding the fabric of his white tee, "I don't know what's happening to me."

Confused, he mumbled motionless, "You've got a.. Fever.. Star.."

"I know, Marco, you've pointed that out hours ago," she replied, her lips moving against his tee. Marco inhaled sharply through the nose.

"T-then.. What's wrong?"

"I don't _get_ it, Marco.."

"Don't get what..?"

"I _like_ Oskar.."

Marco's eyes darted curiously on top of her head as he felt her arm move slightly to peel off a few of the hearts that had scattered all over her face. She exhaled forcefully against his chest and Marco felt every muscle in his body convulse. _Keep it together, man_.

"But sometimes, when I see him, I can't seem to feel.. Anything."

Marco tried not to choke on his sentence, "W-well, that's natural, Star. You don't n-need to think about the person you like all the time."

Star finally looked up, then, and in that moment their eyes locked. Even through the purpley stack of hearts on her face, she radiated a red glow of something between the cusp of embarrassment and unabashed curiosity.

"But, you think about Jackie all the time.."

Marco gulped. And in the silence that made his heart race, his breath hitched at the innocence painted on her face. She had always looked innocent. Always. And he felt like a mean old pervert for feeling like he could take advantage of that. He'd been feeling impulsive ever since he learnt about the fever, having thoughts here and there of inappropriate things and it made his gut twist with guilt.

"N-not.. Anymore," his voice was gradually dropping to a whisper and internally, he debated between himself about whether he should tell her or not. He decided to do so, no matter how awkward that might make the situation afterwards, but he would word it as vaguely and as murky as he could.

"I don't.. Think about Jackie all the time.. Anymore.."

Marco would thrash and throw and scream inside his head but on the outside, he felt small and unsure under Star's intent gaze. He knew it was not meant to seduce him or try to lure him out and bait him to do something. She would never do something like that. But it was there, the urge to touch and feel and... not just sit stock still and wait with bated breath. The more he thought about this, the more he wanted to slam himself on the fractured wall.

"Who.. Do you think about?"

Star didn't know why it should matter, whoever she was, she would be a great girl like Jackie was, but hearing about Marco not thinking about Jackie was surreal and very un-Marco. Marco wished she never asked the question.

"It's-ah.. Y-you don't know her, Star," he squeaked, scratching the back of his nape and finally deciding to back against the couch. He felt the arm of the couch hit his back softly and wished they had a longer sofa.

"All the better. I can keep it a secret."

There was nothing in her eyes that told him that she was trying to seduce him. All he was seeing was Star and her relentless curiosity about everything that intrigued her. He was just unfortunate to be in the line of fire.

"Star, l-let's just get some nachos, huh?" He offered, shrugging his shoulders weakly.

"Oh, yeah," she relented, slowly crawling back away from him on all fours, "Nachos."

"I-I'll go make some Nachos now."

Marco felt like dipping his face into a pot of boiling oil. Or maybe dumping himself entirely inside it and feeling his skin burn and sear to the bone. It would have been far less nerve-wracking than the experience he had earlier. With a distressed sigh, he buried his face in his palms and took a shuddering breath, "Oh, Star.."

His feet wanted to take him back to the living room and his whole system wanted to be looking at her again. Into her adorably blue eyes, touching her long, golden hair, and inhaling her sweaty strawberry scent. He wanted to throw himself out there again and put himself in trouble. But he knew he wouldn't. Couldn't. Star deserved more than a guy who couldn't seem to understand his own feelings.

With another heavy sigh, he pushed on with nacho-duty and buried thoughts of Star's unbearable attractiveness in the deep recesses of his mind, readying himself to go back out there again.

—

He came to the living room with a pile of nachos smothered in warm, decadent cheese and saw Star with her back firmly to the couch seat and her legs slung over the backrest. Her head was hanging off the edge, with her thick golden hair splayed out on the carpet and her blue eyes were scanning him carefully. The embarrassment in the air had lifted, he no longer felt weird and Star, well, she seemed like she was back to normal again. With a smile, he wordlessly placed the plate on the table, "Voila."

"Ooooh!" Star squealed, immediately spinning to her side with her right flank squishing softly against the couch. She reached an arm out and took a nacho in her mouth, the cheese dribbling down the side of her lips. Awkwardly, with all his long limbs, he scrambled down onto the carpet and crossed his legs. He picked up an action movie and pushed it into the player without asking Star. She'd like it anyway. Shaking his head, albeit, only internally, he walked cautiously over back to the couch and sat beside her. She had been crunching away on the nachos now, the events of the earlier encounter gone in her system.

Towards the end, Marco and Star became comfortable with each other once more, exchanging jokes, facts, cultural differences, feelings (those that can be better explained) and more information about her fever. The more they talked, the more absurd Marco started to feel like when he had been previously watching her like a hawk and pining for her like a thirsty maniac.

During the next horror movie, (which Star really did like, as he predicted) Star felt cold and shivered. And Marco flew up the staircase like a cyclone and came back only seconds later holding a fleece blanket over her. He had almost forgotten to fetch it for her when he got carried away with the movie selection and the back and forth of his emotions over nacho-duty. It was the blanket his mother had bought especially for her. There were all sorts of things Star liked printed on that blanket—unicorns, rainbows, bunnies, narwhals, the color pink, stars, hearts, swords, everything—and his mother had gifted it to her on her second month anniversary of her stay in Earth. Expertly, he draped it over her body like a barber draped his customers in something somewhat similar. Star was more than pleased at the gesture and buried herself deep inside the soft rub of the fabric against her skin. The blanket had smelt of sweet flowers, enveloping her, and suddenly, the show was forgotten.

Marco laughed as she squealed and squirmed like an excited puppy inside the blanket. A few more minutes into the movie, the male lead was finally able to find the man behind the torture he'd been subjected to just thirty minutes ago, and boy, was he pissed. Star was out for the count now, she had decided to talk to the unicorn in her wand under the blanket and Marco thought that was better than talking about what happened earlier.

When the credits rolled up, Marco stood up and stretched.

"I'll go fetch us some water, Star. I'll be back. In the meantime, you could pick out what to watch next."

Star froze in her spot under the blanket and peered at Marco carefully. Marco stood waiting. He knew when Star wanted to say something.

"Marco, can I try something? With you?" She refused to look at him, the purple hearts that occupied her face have thinned out now, with only little ones appearing here and there. His whole body shivered as she finally did lock eyes with him. Her blue eyes had shone like pearls glistening under the sun and her soft pink lips had been pressed together. Try what?

In the haze, Marco lost his voice and decided to stare at her like a deer in headlights. For good measure, she repeated in her clumsy conversational, "I kinda, wanna, sorta try something with you."

With a little push, he was able to squeeze out, though technically pathetically, "What is it..?"

"It's something Janna told me about."

Marco's eyes squinted in suspicion, the unease he previously felt now draining, "Star, if you think you can trust Janna just because she secretly loves pink—"

"I know right!" She interrupted excitedly, pressing her palms together. Marco gave a noncommittal blink.

"—you can't," he finished.

"But come on! It's worth a shot! Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yeeees," she pelted him, reaching an arm our playfully to poke his right flank where she knew he was ticklish.

Marco squirmed, "Okay, okay! Yes?"

"Okay, see, she said, if I wanted to _really_ know why I didn't feel stuff for _Oskar_ so suddenly, I should dance with him. And not just the it's-okay-to-be-weird-we're-just-friends-after-all kind of dance, it's the this-is-an-actual-dance-you-have-to-be-careful-not-to-step-on-your-partner's-feet kind of dance."

Marco's brow raised again. On top of the unease he felt towards the turn of events, it astounded him how very unlike Janna the dancing idea was, "Have you tried it with him?"

"Well.. Nooo," she mooned, with a funny look on her face.

"Why?"

"He's Oskaaar! With the great hair and the car and the musical inclination Oskar! I can't even stand beside him without running out of air to breathe!"

"Okay, okay.. Then.. Why do you think trying this with me makes any difference?"

"Because," Star paused and touched her hair, suddenly, she was interested on a patch of the carpeted floor, "Janna says it also works towards the guy you suddenly seem to be thinking about more than the... First one."

At this, Marco became speechless, and asked her the only thing that came up in his mind. With voice quivering slightly, he asked in a measured tone, "Why me?"

"See, that's the part I don't understand," she whispered and laughed awkwardly, doing nothing whatsoever to alleviate the growing disquiet. She closed her eyes tight as a blush crept up her face, "Would you like to help me.. find out?"

With his body as solid as a totem pole, and his arms suddenly feeling very weighty beside his body, his mouth dry, his palms sweaty and his heart hammering, Marco could do nothing but stare. And so stare he did. His lungs had suddenly forgotten how to breathe and his brain needed to restart to be able to work.

Why was this a big deal to him? Star was just trying things out, like she did all the time. Like she tried that flap-stack for the first time, like she tried that bicycle, like she tries that wand every day! Why was this different?! Why?!

Star was standing up, walking to him, but his body won't move. She looked into his eyes as his whole body tensed at her proximity and felt his heart break when she sighed.

"Never mind I said anything. I'll be in my room," she mumbled apologetically, walking up the stairs.

Marco snapped suddenly and blurted out without much thought (he decided he wasn't thinking anymore), "Let's do it."

And then it was like in those corny movies he had to turn away before cringing, where the protagonists found themselves mesmerized, and all manner of reason fell away. It was that moment he loathed because it all looked the same; her hand in his and their bodies inches away from each other, the tips of their noses touching. Only, this was real, Marco thought, and this felt so much better in person. And he would have been lying if he said he didn't think about some sort of force pulling them together in tight embrace.

The living room became a motionless backdrop and the world disappeared as quickly as his heart hammered constantly, and in a sway that started everything, they moved together carefully, as though every moment is treasured and every movement is memorized. Star's soft palms against his rough hands made his breath catch and the intensity in her eyes made him want to kiss her.

They moved awkwardly, with flimsy steps and uneven rhythm, his gait was skittish and her feet dragged lazily, but there was something about this inexperience that made the dance more tender than the one they shared under the Blood Moon ball. It was like they were really trying to grasp each other's feelings.

Their eyes remained fixated upon each other as Marco's left hand slowly rubbed at the small of her back. Star involuntarily leaned in closer, the hearts on her cheeks considerably purpling more but Marco felt, for the first time that day, that he didn't care anymore. That he was done thinking because it was all he ever did. He decided to act now. And found himself moving more swiftly, with light, careful footsteps to a slow dance with no symphony. Star followed him, deftly catching up as more and more purple hearts fell at her feet as she swayed with him.

Star's hand slid down from its spot on his shoulder and rested on his chest, where his breathing had been slow and steady. She pressed it over his heart as she felt him breathe out of his nose. The hot air fanned onto her cheeks and mouth and it made her giggle. The smile in his warm deep brown eyes and his thin lips made her smile in return, as he held her hand steady and continued to dance with her.

He was afraid, and will always be. Star had always been just his friend. Best friend. From another dimension. The adventures they shared and the near-death encounters they had made them stronger and connected them and the Blood Moon ball ensured this connection to the eternal bond their souls would now share. He didn't want anything to happen, it was just going to be a dance, but her eyes pushed him off a cliff into an oblivion of uncertainty and he didn't mind taking the jump, and her hands were so warm and sure, like it had known all along that that was its spot. And her lips... were the softest thing to ever touch his.

With closed eyes, he stood there, lips pressed tenderly against her, not moving. It was a light kiss, so light that the tips of their noses touched ever so slightly. Just enough to make him feel lightheaded but not enough to give him weird ideas. And then she tilted her head and he felt enough passion in him to kiss her deeper, capturing her lips in his, as she tentatively kissed back. Her heart swelled with affection and sent her mind reeling from the first time they met until now and that gave her renewed courage to push forward.

Marco's hands tentatively hovered against her hips, careful not to touch her unnecessarily. Her mouth was hot from her fever and the two distinct hearts on her cheeks began shifting from one shade of purple to another.

When she broke it off so gently, their eyes were still closed, their breaths becoming a notch warmer. That was when Marco put his hands on her hips. Star reached up to his face and cradled his left cheek in her palms. Marco leaned into her touch and turned his head a little so he could peck at her palm. She giggled again. This felt so much better than nodding at Jackie for years. He thought about the skater girl distantly and found that there was nothing in him that made his stomach fill with butterflies at the mention of her name. There was only Star now, and her exaggeration, and crazy monster-filled days with her, her magic and everything that she was.

Marco would get sick tomorrow, for sure, and they'd both have to stay home for real. But he didn't mind. He didn't, really. The silence stretched for quite some time before Marco bravely spoke first.

"Well?" He asked, his voice a low, breathy whisper, as he bravely went in for another kiss when Star leaned in.

"I'm not sure.." she hummed dreamily, tapping a finger on his chest. Marco raised a brow and lifted a hand to stroke through her blonde tresses.

"Maybe you can kiss me again?"

He laughed then, and the feel of his breath against her lips and the even shake of his chest against hers made her shiver in his arms. He kissed her again, as slow and as even as she wanted, his lips were firm and unhurried against hers. Her fingers stroked through his hair as she returned the kiss with gusto.

Finally breaking apart again, Marco exhaled softly against her lips.

"Marco, your breath stinks," she teased halfheartedly, as Marco pulled her closer and rested his head on top of her golden hair. His slender fingers were drawing circles at her nape lovingly as he slowly buried his nose into her hair and took a long draw from it.

"Well?" He asked again in a soft whisper, "I can kiss you all day until you figure it out."

Her lips curled into a smile against his collarbone and her eyelashes tickled his skin softly, "That actually sounds like a good idea."

And he kissed her again. And again. And again. She laughed and they kissed again.

She didn't really answer, she didn't say it in her clumsy words, but Marco felt it in her clumsier ways and that was all the answer he needed. They fell asleep together, Marco with his back on the couch, his lips against Star's forehead and Star on top of him, fitting snugly in his arms, his long, lanky legs bent safely on either side of her hips.

Angie and Rafael came home hours later and Rafael had to cover his wife's mouth to prevent her from squealing with glee as she snapped a picture of them, giving herself a pat on the back.

"The next time you want to set your son up, make sure you plan a better day at the park, honey. No one goes to a picnic and stays there for almost ten hours," Rafael mumbled playfully at his wife, holding her close as they looked fondly at the sleeping children.

* * *

 **Whew. That was a nice experience, although I do admit I have plenty of room for improvement, I would like to thank you guys for stopping by and checking this story out. It means so much to me. This is the second and- _maybe, i don't know teehee_ -last part of this fanfiction but I think I'd continue writing about these two in the future, who knows. It's just that great of an experience. **

**Once again, thank you guys so much for being real nice and reviewing and I hope you can help me with your reviews in the future. :) and hopefully, this ending was great and cleared up some things as to why I wrote the first part like I did. For me it was, at least. Let me know what you think. ^^ and I'll continue improving myself.**


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